The case against the chef knife

Yes, you read that title correctly. We are boycotting, rejecting, protesting the use of, and generally shunning chef’s knives, or just as appropriate, chef knives. Chef knives out, I say! Except for me, because like so many Americans, particularly the unvaccinated, unmasked, and uninformed of which I am none, I’m special.  Please keep in mind I have no formal culinary training, no background in knifeology, sliceology or dicematics, and no experience as a professional cutter. But like those who have no medical training and very little common sense who insist on making up their own facts while still believing the pandemic is a hoax designed to get microchips implanted in every human by way of the vaccine, not knowing anything about knives is no reason not to spread my truth about knives.

Chefs, particularly famous, celebrity chefs much more so than the relatively unknown celebrity chefs and definitely the ones who if they don’t sell knives at least use knives, all say if they were stranded on a desserted island, not to be confused with a deserted island, and they could have only one thing in all the world, they would want to please be allowed to keep their chef knives. Of course, if they were on a dessserted island they would need their knives to prepare something sweet. If they were on a deserted island the one thing they would want would be a ticket back home, price is no object. That’s what I would want too. Anyway, getting back to the desserted island, personally I believe I’d want a whisk because whipped cream goes best with sweets, and there is just no way you can slice or dice heavy cream fast enough to make it light and fluffy. Again, just my opinion.

Those who really know how to use a chef’s knife, the chef, can go ahead and use it to their heart’s content. They don’t tell you that they are big, heavy, sharp, and unwieldy to wield if you haven’t been trained in their use. They then compound it and say to get the most out of your chef knife you need a big one – a 12 incher, or at least 10 inches.  Even the girl chefs, hmm women chefs, umm, even the chefs who identify as anything other than male with male parts down there will argue that size does matter. They flash their foot long 4 billion dollar carbon steel machete on television where the camera angles deftly screen from view most of the blood, then when you try it at home where you don’t have a staff of twenty doing the real work, you find yourself plucking the tips of the fingers of your non-dominant hand out of the stir-fry ingredients.

Save yourself the embarrassment of yet again explaining to the EMTs where to find the cooler and zip top bags for ice for the trip to the emergency room and stick with a Homecook’s Knife, also just as appropriate, the Normal Knife. I think with a well balance, well sharpened, reasonably priced utility knife, you too can prepare meals your family will think are just dandy. If you happen to be exception at home cookery, like I am (again, just my opinion – no, that’s a fact), you could step into the world of responsibly chef knife ownership.

You see here my personal knife collection. That’s it and I make almost every meal I eat. No, seriously, really I do. So far this year I have eaten other people’s cooking about 24 times and it is September. That’s a bunch of meals prepped.

Knives

So then, this is my working cutlery. I use a short, 8 inch chef knife when I get all cheffy and decide to use it and then it is mostly for fine dicing, there’s nothing better than it for chopping green onions and chives, and I like mincing herbs and smushing cloves of garlic with it. Sometimes I put extra garlic in things just so I can pound the living daylights out of them with the side of the…. umm, but I digress. I’m sure somebody who owns 6 restaurants would laugh at it but then I actually know how vaccines work because I really did go to school for that. Below that is a 7 inch utility knife, the workhorse for my cutting and slicing, something you will never see on a televised food competition. Both of those are Vitorinox and they get honed after each use and sharpened only when needed. With the utility knife I can cut most anything from produce to poultry and with its thin blade I can even skin and filet fish. The paring knife is another frequent visitor to the cutting board and is an OXO product. The serrated knife is by El Cheapo and almost never comes out of the block but every now and then I need those teeth.  The whole kit and kaboodle, including a good honing steel and kitchen shears cost less than $150, about half of what the famous guys will spend on their one necessity for Dessert Island. Which reminds me, maybe next week we’ll talk about whips. Balloon whips for whipping eggs and cream for crying out loud! (Sheesh)

Now that we’re done with stuff I don’t know nothing about, on Tuesday I will be getting my vaccine booster shot because I am immunocompromised. If for some ridiculous, completely unscientific reason you are unvaccinated, and you don’t intend to ever at all vaccinate, would please be so kind as to wear a mask while you read my blog posts. Thank you very much. Big chef knives were sent here by aliens.

Bon Appetite

We’re used to being a day late.  We’re usually much more than a dollar short.  But we still like our food and one of the best foodies hit her milestone yesterday, even if she wasn’t around to celebrate it. 

Julia turned 100.

For many, Julia Child never died.  Neither did Lucille Ball, John Wayne, Marilyn Monroe, or Dean Martin.  As long as television reruns and movies on demand, DVDs and U-Tube, video archives and PBS are around, so will be our favorite chefs, singers, actors, and whats have you.

How often have you held this conversation in your house when you heard of the death and/or the upcoming concert of a celebrity?  “I thought he was dead already.”  We aren’t sure if it’s a good thing or not.  We go on watching cooking shows every Saturday morning never even considering how old the show might be.  It doesn’t matter if it was taped in 1967, 1987, or 2007.  Cooking doesn’t change much.  With cooking shows because the hosts are usually wearing aprons, you don’t even have the cues of fashion to narrow things down to a decade.  (Now in the real, real old ones the hair can still give it away and that rarely leaves you muttering “they don’t make ‘em like that anymore.”)  (The hair, that is.)

But they still make a few like our girl Julia.  You can probably still catch the shows with Julia and Jacques Pepin (who is a very youthful and quite alive 76) and would wonder who will out-compliment the other.  Now there are two people on television who you wish could come out of that box and make us dinner.  But we think we’d like them to do it one at a time.  We can double our pleasure that way.  

John Folse (a veritable television child at 66) could make us dinner also.   His choice of protein might be a bit unusual.  Not often do you see a television chef make goose cacciatore or squirrel with pan gravy but he does and does it in a manner that leaves you wondering “I bet that’s even good with plain old chicken.” 

John’s twists on the prizes of Louisiana leave us thinking a bit of Justin Wilson but with a more understandable accent.  There wasn’t a crawfish that Justin Wilson didn’t like and even though we aren’t sure if we like them, how could you turn down dinner and a show when the show comes in the form of the stories that made Chef Wilson the “Louisiana Original.”  You’ll still see Justin on U-Tube and hear him on radio and he would be closing in on 99 if he was still around to close in on anything.

There are some younger television chefs – yep, even younger than 60! – who we wouldn’t mind if they pulled into our driveways, knocked on the front doors, and greeted us with “Dinner’s on me tonight.”  But we’ll wait a few years before we reveal them.  There’s not as much fun in it if you can’t ask, “isn’t he dead yet?”

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

 

Hell’s Chopped Kitchen Star

“I learned how to cook at my grandmother’s house who took us in after Mom and Pop died in the car wreck when the telephone pole fell on the car that first smashed them, then electrocuted them.  Grandma went to the community college to learn English so she could raise me and my 14 sisters and one brother who wore dresses a lot but could make the fluffiest soufflé.  And if I win today’s competition I’m going to take the $300,000 prize and buy her the stove she’s always wanted assuming I can still find a 1965 Amana and let her teach my children all that she taught me.  Even the autistic ones.”

We’ve been watching a lot of cooking competition shows lately.  But not the cupcake people.  We hate the cupcake people.  What they do to cupcakes you shouldn’t be allowed to put on TV.  Anyway, we’ve been watching a lot of cooking competitions and swearing off as many as we watch.  Why?  Because the competitions are becoming less of a challenge among those who can cook as they are now a contest of who has the bigger sob story.

We’ve always liked the Food Network show Chopped.  The premise of real chefs being dealt real but unusual ingredients fascinates us.  Most of these people are real working chefs and know exactly what to do when given chicken feet, dragon fruit, clove candy, and 20 minutes to make a scrumptious appetizer.  But now it’s not good enough to see 4 chefs, then 3, then 2 turn the bizarre into the palatable.  Now we have to ask what will you do with the money if you win.  Who would have ever thought that cooks had so many physically challenged children?  Or how many have an elderly parent yearning to see the homeland one last time?  Or how many are supporting their nieces and nephews?  We know what we’d say if someone asked us how we would spend a prize.  It’s found money.  We’ll blow it all on us.

Gordon Ramsey has to be the king of shock cooking.  We’ve come to if not love, appreciate Hell’s Kitchen because he’s not going to hold anything back. If you’re not cooking, you’re not contributing.  Leave now.  The little snippet interviews with the contestants are the best part of that show.  It gives each contestant a little face time with the camera and by extension, the viewer.  We hear how this person is a dolt, that person can’t boil water.  Petty gripes and foul mouths.  But then after the service they go to their sleeping areas and talk to the pictures or their kids, and parents, and partners and how much they love them, and love (sniff) being here, and really (sniff, sniff) want this (boo hoo).

Another of our favorite cooking contests also has Gordon at the forefront.  Master Chef.  This competition among home cooks has us wondering if the professionals on Hell’s Kitchen shouldn’t stop by the studio next door and get some pointers on, well, on cooking.  These non-professionals are very good at their limited challenges and usually work without complaining.  But even here we have the boo-hoo crowd sneaking in and has us wondering how far a blind cook can go in a kitchen competition with real knives, hot stoves, and open flames.

Not long ago we were watching one of the previous winners of Food Network Star whose show came on right after another previous winner.  And at that we were stuck. Both of the former winners with real shows who have now been on for what seems like years and have books and CDs and probably hats and T-shirts were winners when food was the competition and they left making a good promo up to the PR department.  This year’s finalists seem (emphasis on seem) to know their difference between a whisk and a dutch oven.  Could it be that after all the tears a cooking competition might actually be decided on cooking?  It could happen.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?